Sparks in the Making
by Little Miss Mizfit
Summary: Three young women are just starting their careers. The last thing they're looking for is love. But, unfortunately, for all three of them, love finds them. Alex Riley, The Miz, Maryse, and OCs.


"Graduated from Ball State... interned at Wall State Journal.. wow. With a resume like this, you could get a job at pretty much any magazine or newspaper you wanted. Why here? And you're so young, don't you think you could be wasting your time and skills here?"

"When I was younger, I wanted desperately to be a wrestler. But, it didn't take long for me to realize it wasn't for me. I've always loved wrestling, though, and I love journalism. Working at WWE Magazine is just the perfect job for me, don't you think?"

"Perfect job, indeed. Michelle, welcome aboard."

xx

Michelle Matthews was only 22 years old, fresh out of college, but already knew what she wanted to do with her life. She'd known since she was 15 years old. She wanted to go to Ball State and then once she graduated, she wanted to get a job with WWE Magazine as an interviewer, an editor, a writer. Anything. She just wanted to work there and she was prepared to do any job. Not an hour after she'd left the headquarters in Stanford, Connecticut, she'd gotten a phone call from Tony Romando, the Editor-in-Chief of the magazine, telling her what her first job would be. She would be interviewing one of the newer WWE Divas.

Right after squealing and thanking Tony for a good five minutes, she hung up with him and immediately pressed the number three on her speed dial. She hadn't yet made the phone call to her best friend telling her she had gotten the job, which she'd promised to her would be the first thing she did. But, it was mere coincidence her mom called right after she left the headquarters and kept her on the phone right up until Tony beeped in. But, Caitlin didn't have to know she was really the second person to know.

"Are you crying? Because if you're crying, that means you didn't get it and I have to go kick someone's ass... or they're happy tears. So nevermind, my crying theory isn't accurate. Just tell me, did you get the job?" the familiar voice of Caitlin Smith, Michelle's best friend since the 7th grade, answered. Her words were hard to understand because she was speaking so quickly, but Michelle managed to catch each one of them.

"I got it!" she squealed, causing Caitlin to squeal, sending both of them into a long fit of squealing.

"Oh, Chelle!" Caitlin finally responded with words. "That's awesome! Congratulations! Where are you? We have to go celebrate!"

"Caitlin, I'm in Stanford. You're in California. I don't think getting together and celebrating is an option right now."

"Boo. Well, whatever. Where are you? Did you find an apartment yet?"

"About that..."

"Michelle!" Caitlin cut her off. "You said you would have a place to stay. I will not let you be homeless."

"I'm not homeless," Michelle said. "I have a place to stay. I'm staying at a hotel, and it's pretty nice, too."

"Whatever. It's probably a crappy ass place full of bugs and mice."

Michelle glanced around at her hotel room from her spot at the edge of the bed. It wasn't full of bugs and mice, but it was pretty crappy. Her sheets and blankets were clean at least, but the whole room smelled really bad. Everything was dusty and she wondered when the last time a maid came in here was.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"Shut up, Caitlin."

"I was the first person you told, right?"

White lies were good. "Of course you were!"

"Yay! Now, look, I want to hear all about your fabulous new job, but I have to leave or I'll be late for my gig."

"Do you have to?" Michelle whined playfully.

"I have to make a living, too, Chelle. Sorry."

"Fine. Call me afterwards if you don't go home with a super sexy rockstar you meet tonight."

"You don't know me at all, do you? As if I'd ever go home with a random guy."

"Not even a super sexy rockstar?"

"I don't think a super sexy rockstar would be interested in taking me home, Michelle, but assuming one would, I still would not go home with him. I have morals," Caitlin said.

"Morals shmorals. Go get laid."

"I'm hanging up now."

"Okay, bye, Caitlin. Love you!"

"Love you, too. Bye."

xxx

Caitlin Smith and Michelle Matthews grew up together. They met in 7th grade and had stuck together since then. Their friendship hadn't ended as they graduated and went to pursue their careers. While Michelle was settling into a new job that was a sure thing when it came to money, Caitlin... well, Caitlin was, like Michelle, doing what she had always wanted to do, but it wasn't as much of a sure thing.

Music had always been her passion, and she'd always known that's how she had to make her living. She was struggling with money though. She came from a wealthy family, so they put her through college, but Caitlin didn't want their money, she wanted her own and didn't plan on mooching off of them. She had a nice apartment that she only got to stay in because she was living with her super rich friend, Max, and he let her stay there for free. The only catch was that she had to pretend like they were dating because he was gay and his parents were extremely homophobic and would cut him off if they knew. Caitlin was more than willing to hold his hand and kiss him a little in return for a home. It was a fair trade if you asked her.

She wasn't a problem to live with anyways. She spent the majority of her time locked in her room with her guitar, and it seemed the only time she wasn't in her room playing, was on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights when she had weekly gigs at these two bars she used to bartend at. Also when she had to work as a waitress at a cheesy 50s diner, which was only a few nights a week, because she put her music first and preferred to spend her time composing instead of rolling around on skates in a poodle skirts, serving fries to annoying teenagers.

"You off to work?" Max asked from his spot on the couch, as Caitlin exited her room and headed for the front door, guitar case in hand. He didn't look up from the book he was reading.

"Performing tonight, Max. It's Friday. You should know that."

Glancing up, Max laughed softly. "Oh yeah, of course. You don't have on that awful poodle skirt they force you to wear. You need a new job, Caitlin."

"Tell me about it, Max. Tell me all about it," she sighed. She knew she needed a new job. They were reasonable with her hours, so that was a plus, but the uniform and the pay and the customers... were horrible. But, she needed it, so she put up with it. "I'll see you later tonight."

"Later. Have fun!"

xxx

Once people find out you're nice, they use that against you and screw you over. That's why from a very young age, Mackenzie Knight knew it was best not to be nice. Do what you had to do for yourself, think of nobody else, and you'll go where you have to go. So far, that's been working for Kenzie. It got her to the WWE after all.

Kenzie was 25 years old. Since she was 18, she'd been training to become a wrestler. And it had taken way too long, in her opinion, for her to get her contract. But, hey, she was there, and she planned to dominate. She had made her debut the week before. Horribly enough, it was as a face. She was a bitch, so it was easy for her to play a bitch. But, she was a good enough actress that she could work as a face. Kissing ass wasn't something she did a lot, but she'd have to work on it.

"Hey, darling," she greeted fellow Raw diva, traveling partner, hotel roommate, and friend, Gail Kim, as the long time diva entered the hotel room. Gail was an extremely nice girl, but the two had known each other for a long time because they'd done a show or two together back on the indies, and Gail knew how to handle Kenzie's bitchiness.

"Hi, Kenzie," Gail smiled as she tossed her purse onto her bed, before plopping down herself. "What are you still doing here? I thought you had an interview and photoshoot for WWE magazine."

Kenzie blinked. "Oh," she said after a moment. She slid off the edge of the bed and quickly slipped her feet into a pair of sandals, and grabbed her purse. "I'm late. Oops. Bye, girl."

xxx

Michelle was growing angry. She was scheduled to go in while Kenzie was doing her photoshoot and ask a few questions for the article, but she wasn't even there yet. She had been hoping to catch her beforehand, but seeing as how she was almost half an hour later, that didn't seem to be happening. So, she made Michelle look stupid. She was just standing there at the food table at the photoshoot, cramming pretzels into her mouth that weren't meant for her to eat. Clutching her clipboard to her chest. Michelle didn't like waiting, she wasn't very patient. This probably showed on her face, and that's the only reason no one was telling her to get away from the food.

"You're not a diva."

Michelle looked up from the half empty bowl of pretzels up into the blue eyes of the WWE Champion himself, The Miz. She wasn't just working for WWE Magazine because she loved to write, she worked there because she loved wrestling, so being face to face with the WWE Champion... she was starstruck.

"Huh?" she didn't even remember what he'd said. She was a bit surprised he was talking to her.

"You're not a diva," he repeated, a wide smile threatening to spread on his face. He'd clearly noticed she was in awe.

"Oh, um, no, I'm not," she told him. She set the bowl down on the table before glancing back up at him and smiling politely.

"I can tell."

She furrowed her brow. "Should I be offended by that?"

He did let his smile spread at that, laughing softly. "No, that's not what I meant, I promise."

"If you say so," she said. "Um, so, do you have an interview or photoshoot or something?"

He shook his head. "Nah, my girlfriend does. I'm just here to be a good little boyfriend."

Michelle giggled. "Aw, that's sweet."

"Yeah, I guess," he grinned. "Now, what I meant by my comment and what I probably should have said in the first place is, you're not a new diva and I've never seen you working behind the scenes before."

"Michelle Matthews," she said, extending her hand that wasn't holding her clipboard out to him. "I'm working for WWE Magazine as an associate editor. Today's my first day."

"Mike Mizanin," he introduced as he took her hand to shake. "Welcome to the company."

"Thank you. It's nice to be here."

Pulling his hand away and going to lean against the wall, Mike set his eyes on Michelle. "So, today's your first day, but all you're doing is angrily eating all the pretzels and talking to me."

"I'm supposed to be interviewing Kenzie Knight, she's the new diva, but she's late," she sighed, reaching over to once again pick up the bowl of pretzels.

"Do you have your questions ready?" Mike asked, reaching a long arm out and snatching the clipboard away from Michelle.

"Um.. yes..." she answered. "Can I have that back?"

"These are pretty good," he said, not listening to Michelle at all.

"Thanks, can I can have my clipboard back?" Michelle really didn't want him reading through everything she had on there. If he stayed on that first piece of paper, where her questions for Kenzie were, that'd be fine, but if he lifted it up... shit.

"People I want to interview..." Mike started. Michelle could have sworn she whimpered. "'The Undertaker, too bad he doesn't talk much,'"Mike read, laughing softly. "Very true. 'Rosa Mendes, she speaks Spanish and I just want to hear her roll some R's', 'The Miz - he's hot and I really would enjoy asking him questions and drooling while he answered.'"

She was red. She probably looked like a tomato. Oh God, this was horrifying.

"I get super hyper during interviews, so chances are if you drooled, I'd slip and you'd kill me," he said as he handed her back her clipboard.

Hesitantly, she took it back. "Oh.. yeah.. that'd be bad."

"Bad? I'm the WWE Champion. It would be way more than bad," he said. "I mean, if I died, who would you have to drool over?"

"Please never bring this up again," Michelle pleaded. "I wrote that a long time ago."

Mike laughed, shaking his head. "Don't lie to me. You wrote it right before you wrote out those questions for Kenzie. Probably yesterday. It's fine, really, I don't care. Everyone thinks I'm hot, seriously, everyone."

Michelle quirked an eyebrow. "Conceited?"

"Confident," he corrected with a wink.

"Hey, Miss Matthews! Stop flirting with the WWE Champion and come interview me please!"

Both Mike and Michelle turned to see a tiny brunette (even tinier than Michelle) walking towards them. Michelle assumed it was Kenzie. Once she approached, she smiled and extended her hand to Michelle.

"Mackenzie Knight, please call me Kenzie, never by my full name. I hope you're Michelle Matthews, I was told you'd been over here waiting. I was running late, I'm sorry," she spoke quickly, but Michelle still caught every word. Michelle could already tell this was going to be a fun interview.

"Nice to meet you, Kenzie," Michelle said, smiling brightly. "Are you ready for your interview?"

"Totally ready! I have to go get my makeup and hair done and get dressed still, so I don't know, when can we do it? Are you going to be here awhile?" Kenzie asked.

"Um, actually, it's not that many questions, so if you don't mind, we can do it while you're getting ready?" Michelle suggested.

Kenzie smiled. "That'll work! Let's go! Bye, Mike!"

As Kenzie began leading Michelle off, she turned to look back at Mike. He grinned at her as they made eye contact, and she gave him a smile.

She was going to like this job. 


End file.
